


Christmastime in the City

by knittycat99



Category: Glee, Rambling Wrecks
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittycat99/pseuds/knittycat99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Brown hates Northern winters, the most improbable play date ever, and the meaning of family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmastime in the City

**Author's Note:**

  * For [patchfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/gifts), [raving_liberal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rambling Wrecks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/487588) by [patchfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire), [raving_liberal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal). 



> Written for patchfire and raving_liberal, because they rock.

Miles knocks, soundly, on Mina and Jane’s door and tries to be patient while he waits for one of them to answer, the cardboard drink tray from the lobby Starbucks heavy in his hand.  He listens to scrabbling on the other side, and the door handle turns awkwardly three times before he hears Mina scolding gently.  “Parker, wait, the deadbolt is still on!”  There’s an audible click, and then Parker flings the door open. 

“Daddy!”  Parker’s bundled up in his new puffy blue coat, and he’s wearing that stupid knit penguin hat that Casey got him.  “Did you bring me hot chocolate? Are we going skating?  Momma said we were going skating!  This is gonna be the best Daddy day ever!”

Miles tries not to roll his eyes at Mina over Parker’s bouncing, and carefully hands over her chai and one of those tea latte things for Jane.  “Thought you guys might need these,” he says to her, and then shakes his head at Parker.  “No hot chocolate yet.  We’ll have some after skating.” 

“Okay.”  Parker sighs, but he’s still smiling, so clearly the lack of hot chocolate isn’t a deal breaker for a day in the city.

 “Thanks, Miles,” Jane smiles at him, and Miles just nods.  It’s never a problem, getting to have Parker for a day, and getting their drinks in addition to his own just seemed like the thing to do.

“I can keep him for the night, if you want.  I don’t mind,” he tells her.  “You guys should go down to that ticket place, try to see a show.”

“Maybe,” she says with a shrug.  “I’ll let you know later?”

“Sure.”  He kneels down and urges Parker back in Mina’s direction.  “Say goodbye, and we’ll get going, Kiddo.”

“By, Momma,” Parker calls, and leans into the room.  “Bye, Mommy.”

“Bye, boys,” Jane calls from somewhere inside, over the noise of some morning talk show or other.  “Have fun and don’t eat too much junk food.”

“That’s silly,” Parker says, slipping his mittened hand into Miles’ gloved one.  “There’s no such thing as too much junk food.  Uncle Casey says.”

“Shhh,” Miles scolds lightly.  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

**

Outside, the streets are already crowded even though it’s barely 9 am.  The wind whips, biting and cold, under Miles’ inadequate scarf.  He’s forgotten about Northern winters; he hasn’t been home for a Christmas since Parker was born.  Miles sips at his double-shot vanilla latte, winces at the bitterness of the coffee.  He _hates_ the strong shit, but he’d been out clubbing till after 3 am and if he’s gonna take Parker skating _and_ to that toy store, and wherever else they decide to go, he needs the caffeine.

“Where’re we goin’ first, Daddy?”  Parker tugs on his hand and stares up at him from the space between the edge of his hat and where his scarf is wrapped, snug and hopefully warm over his mouth and nose.  Miles laughs, because the scarf muffles Parker’s voice.  He tugs them into the shelter of a doorway and loosens the scarf a little. 

“How about breakfast, buddy?  Pancakes?”

Parker claps his hands together, his mittens make a muffled clapping sound.  “Can I get strawberries _and_ whipped cream on mine?”

Miles laughs, because Parker’s excitement is more than a little catching, and he might still be on a little bit of an adrenaline rush from the anonymous guys who’d tried to pick him up in the club, and he can almost still feel the thumping of the music in his veins, and it feels _so good_ to be in a place where nobody knows him.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning at his son.  “Yeah, you can get both.”

**

They have pancakes, and then take a cab to Rockefeller Plaza.  There’s a line to get on the ice, _of course_ , but Parker doesn’t seem to care.  He just bounces in line, occasionally squealing _we’re going **skating!**_ , which elicits chuckles from the other adults around them.  There are _lots_ of excited kids in the line, but everyone seems to be in a good mood.  Must be a holiday thing, Miles decides, as they shuffle forward and are finally able to pay the fee and get their skates. 

Miles puts his own on first, and then helps Parker with his.  “I can do it myself, Daddy,” Parker insists, but it’s cold and the laces slip through his fingers so Miles finishes them off. 

“These aren’t exactly like your hockey skates, dude,” he tells Parker as they walk carefully to the ice.  “Don’t go rushing off, okay?  I need to be able to see you.”

Parker nods, and the little pompoms on his hat strings bob against his jacket.  Miles can’t help grinning again, because _damn_ , he’s lucky.  He loves that kid more than he thought was possible.

Parker steps onto the ice and is off like a shot, of course.  Pee Wee hockey has been good for him.  Miles isn’t nearly as steady on his skates, but once he gets the feel of the ice under his feet he’s able to move a little faster.  He doesn’t catch up with Parker, not even close, but he’s able to keep an eye on him with ease _and_ do some people watching.  There’s a tall, slender man in the middle of the rink teaching a girl of about 8 how to spin, and there’s a family, mom and dad and three kids all in matching neon-green coats, holding each other’s hips like they’re doing a conga line.  There are some couples, and some singles, and a gaggle of pre-teen girls.  There’s a guy skating backwards, tugging two kids a little younger than Parker in his hands, the kids are laughing and yelling _Papaaaaaaa_ , and the sight makes Miles smile too. 

He rounds the rink and is distracted by a familiar-looking man with a baby in a snowsuit strapped into a carrier on his chest standing against the boards waving at someone on the ice.

_Impossible_ , he thinks, and keeps going, watching Parker gliding with confidence closer and closer to the center of the rink.  On his next pass around the ice, he looks for the man with the baby, but he must have moved.  He’s a little distracted, thinking about the improbability of running into anyone from Lima in a city this big, and he doesn’t notice Parker stumbling until it’s almost too late.

He can hear Parker calling _Daddy_ , and he’s off through the crowd mumbling _excuse me_ and _sorry_ , and Parker’s in a heap on the ice with the twirling girl and her teacher. 

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” he says to the man’s back, kneels down to check on Parker who is already squirming and trying to stand. 

“I’m okay, Daddy,” Parker says.  “My hat slipped and I couldn’t see!”

“He wasn’t going too fast,” the man is saying.  “I tried to catch him.”

And Miles knows that voice, _and_ the one of the guy with the two kids, who has joined them and is asking if anyone is hurt. 

“I’m _okay_ ,” Parker is insisting.  “Please don’t tell Mommy and Momma or they won’t want me to do hockey.” 

Nobody is really paying any attention to Miles at all, so he just watches while Puckerman and Hummel help the girl to her feet.  There’s someone yelling from the boards, loud and a little frantic, _is she okay?_ , and Hummel turns to face the man with the baby.  “She’s fine, darling.  We’re all fine.”

“Well, I’ll be _fucked_ ,” Miles drawls out before he can stop himself, because he’s heard the rumors, of course, but he hates to believe gossip before it’s been proven to be true, and he’s always felt like it’s not his place to judge anyone else’s life because there’s plenty to judge in his own.

But it makes sense now, all of it.

“Daddy, you said the _worst_ word!”  Parker tugs on his hand.  “When we get home you have to put a dollar in the swear jar.”

“I know, little man.  I know.”

He waits while Hummel turns and stares at him.  He blinks twice, and recognition rises in his eyes.  “Brown,” he says flatly.  “Of _course_.”

“Brass,” Miles nods.  “Fancy running into you here.”

Puckerman snorts, laughs.  “You two are always going to hate each other.”  He reaches his hand out to Miles for a shake.  “Good to see you, man.  Who’s the mini-Brown?”

Parker frowns at them.  “Brown’s Daddy’s name, not mine.  I’m Parker.”

“Be polite,” Miles scolds, but Puckerman is just smiling, and he kneels on the ice. 

“I’m Noah,” he says, and then puts his arms around the kids.  “This is Charlie and Harvey.  I knew your Daddy when we were kids.”

“Cool!” Parker exclaims.  “Like Uncle Dave and Uncle Casey and Uncle Taylor and Uncle Rick?”

“Yeah,” Miles says, and then watches as Parker looks at Charlie and Harvey.  “Wanna skate?” he asks them.

Charlie shakes her head.  “I don’t know how to by myself.”

Parker holds his hand out to her.  “I’ll help you.  C’mon.  I play _hockey_.”  He takes Charlie’s hand and skates with her really carefully over to the wall.  Harvey pauses, looks from Puckerman to Hummel, and then follows after them.  The older girl tugs on Kurt’s hand and asks if he’ll skate with her, and Miles thinks it’s like she can sense the tension among the three of them.  Hummel says yes, and they take off gracefully, hand in hand around the rink. 

“That’s Eliza,” Puckerman says once they’re alone, and nods to Hudson, who’s still watching all of the kids with eagle eyes.  “And Nova, with Finn.”

Miles nods.  “They’re . . . all of yours?”

Puckerman jams his hands into his coat and inclines his head to the exit off the rink.  “You might wanna sit down for this conversation.”

“Nah,” Miles scoffs.  “I may be inattentive sometimes, but I’m not stupid.  I don’t need the details, I saw how you guys were that spring, and the rumors in college, man.  That shit was fucked up.” 

Puckerman looks away, and his face is clouded. 

“Hey, man, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean—”

“No,” Puckerman reassures him.  “It’s okay.  There were just some, well, some _not good_ years in there, you know?”

“I do.  But you’re all good and happy now, right?”

“Yeah,” he nods.  “Yeah.”

Miles scans the crowd, can’t find the kids so he looks again.  He hears them before he sees them, Charlie gliding awkwardly but on her own, right toward Puckerman’s knees.  “Papa!  Papa!  Look!  Parker taught me how!”

Puckerman picks her up and spins her around.  “That’s great, babygirl.”

“Papa?”  Harvey’s voice is soft and pleading.  “Can Parker come over and play?”

“He can’t, Harv.  I’m taking you and Charlie to the cookie party at Betsey’s house, Daddy’s taking Eliza to her ballet lesson, and Dad is going to stay home with Nova while she has her nap.  But we have a little more time, if you guys want to skate some more.”  He flicks his eyes at Miles.  “If that’s okay with Parker’s Daddy, of course.”

“Go,” Miles waves them on.  “Please skate.”  He waits until they’re gone again, still careful in the crowd, before rolling his eyes at Puckerman.  “It’s Daddy day in the big city.  I gotta get some energy out of him or he’s never gonna sleep tonight and then his moms might hate me.”

Puckerman nods.  “Still loving all the people, then.”

“Still pan, yeah, but his moms did insemination.  You know,” he said with a shrug.  “The baby part was easy.  The rest is the complicated shit.”

Miles watches as Puckerman gazes over the ice, follows him grabbing up Hummel and Eliza, Charlie and Harvey, Hudson and Nova, holding all of them tight in his sight.  When he smiles, it’s happiness tinged with unexpected grief.  “When you get it right, though,” he says, almost to himself, “when you get it right, it’s pretty damn good.”

Miles wishes he knew what that felt like.  He gets pretty close, with Parker, and maybe that will just have to do.

They watch the kids in silence until Hudson hollers from the boards with his hands over the baby’s ears.  “Kurt!  Eliza!  Ballet!”

Hummel doesn’t say goodbye as he and Eliza skate past, which doesn’t surprise him, especially not now that Miles understands his own mistakes from back in the day.  “He’s never going to like me,” Miles says with a shake of his head. 

Puckerman laughs, hard.  “You did try to pick me up,” he teases.  “Finn, too.  Kurt doesn’t like other people touching his toys.”

Miles thinks that’s the understatement of the year, but he’ll never say it out loud.  He just nods, and watches Parker clapping his hands as Charlie goes gliding again, Harvey scrambling behind her.  “They’re cute,” he tells Puckerman.

“We call them the Peas,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.  Instead, he deftly changes the subject.  “What else are you guys doing today?”

“I thought I might take him to that toy place.”

“FAO Schwartz?  Fuck, Brown, you really _are_ a masochist if you’re going _there_.”

“It seemed like the thing to do?” 

Puckerman shakes his head vigorously.  “No.  Hell, _no_.  C’mere.”  He takes the sleeve of Miles’ coat and practically drags him over to where Hudson is standing.

“Brown,” Hudson nods.  “Welcome to New York.”

“Uh, thanks.” 

“Darling,” Puckerman says, his hand on Hudson’s arm.  “You still in touch with that guy who works at the Garden?”

Hudson scowls for a minute like he’s thinking hard.  “Yeah.  Um.  Robert, yeah.”

“Miles’ son Parker plays hockey.  You think you could—”

Miles is definitely having an inattentive moment, because he has no idea what’s going on.

“Sure,” Hudson is nodding, and reaching around the baby to pull his phone out of his pocket.  “Give me a minute,” he says, and turns away.

“I don’t—” Miles shakes his head, tries to understand, and then realizes that he kind of needs to pay attention because Puckerman is still talking at him.

“Buy hot dogs for lunch, then take him to Serendipity for ice cream.  In about a minute, with any luck, Finn’s going to have tickets held for you for tonight’s Rangers game.  But for all that is holy, promise me you’ll stay away from the scary toy store.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“The first time my sister came here to visit us, Kurt and I lost her in the Barbie dolls.  She was _nine_.  It was like freaky Barbie doll hell, dude.  I wouldn’t wish that on _anyone_.”

An alarm goes off on Puckerman’s phone, and he’s waving and calling to Charlie and Harvey.  “C’mon, Peas, time to go!”

Miles nods, and waves at Parker who follows the other two off the ice.  Harvey’s bouncing a little in his skates, singing _cookie party, cookie party, cookie party_ lightly under his breath.  “Sorry you can’t play, Parker,” he says as Puckerman sets him on the bench, wrestles his skates off, and hands him a pair of sneakers with light-up fire trucks on them.

“That’s okay,” Parker shrugs, and looks at Miles.  “We’re doing other things, right, Daddy?”

“Right, buddy.  We’re gonna stay and skate a little longer, you and I, and then we’re gonna have lunch and if you eat all your lunch then we’re gonna go to a special ice cream restaurant, and Charlie and Harvey’s dad is trying to arrange a surprise for you.”

“For _me?”_ Parker squeaks, and his eyes go round like saucers.

“Yeah, dude.”  Hudson comes up behind Miles, claps his hand on Miles’ shoulder.  “Game’s at 7, you should plan to get there around 6.  There’ll be two tickets and some freebies for you at the box office, just ask for Robert and tell him Bluebird sent you.”

Miles wonders what he did to deserve kindness like that from these men he hasn’t seen in what feels like a lifetime.  “You didn’t have to—” he starts to protest, but Hudson is hugging him carefully so as not to squish the baby.

“I know,” Hudson says.  “But we take care of our Soups, our family.  We’ve been to war together, brother.”

Miles understands what he’s saying; that time in Lima, all of them working together to make things a little easier, a little better, just less _awful_ ;  Dave, coming out the way he did, guys like Rick and Hudson doing their part to make the locker rooms less hostile; Casey, who is still standing and is finally happy; and at the heart of all of it was Kurt, standing up and showing the rest of them the way.

“Thanks, man.”  He hugs Hudson back.  “I didn’t get a chance to apologize to Br- _Kurt_.  For on the ice, and for everything before.  I know it probably doesn’t matter, but tell him I’m sorry?”

“You got it.”  Hudson nods at the kids, at Puckerman.  “Don’t be a stranger, Brown,” he says with a smile, and then he wraps his arm around Puckerman’s waist and they all walk off together, Charlie and Harvey dancing around them.

**

After the game, Parker falls asleep in the cab, his knees tucked under an oversized Rangers jersey and his head in Miles’ lap.  He carries Parker up to his room, tucks him into bed, and steps out onto the very very tiny balcony.  The city is shimmering and alive beneath him, and Miles wishes he had someone to share the night with, but he’s made his choices and he really can’t complain.

He’s still a little overwhelmed by Hudson’s kindness, Puckerman’s openness, if he’s being honest.  He’s pretty sure he doesn’t deserve any of it, but his Ma raised him to be thankful and gracious.  He’ll get their address, Dave probably has it, and send a food basket or something.

He’s lonelier than he’d like to admit, and he knows he has no right at all, not on a Saturday night, but he unlocks his phone and dials anyway.

“Miles, hi.”  Casey sounds relaxed, and Miles can hear the TV in the background, hears Casey shushing Dave and asking him to turn it down.  “How’s the city?”

“It’s good.”

“You sound tired.”

“Yeah.  Parker and I spent the day so the girls could be together, and he tired me out.”  He closes his eyes and sees an image of Parker in his hat.  “That penguin hat you got him, it looks real sweet.  Thank you.”

“It’s not bad that I like spoiling him?”

“Naw, Case.  Kids need people to spoil ‘em.” 

Casey sucks in a breath, and Miles wants to smack himself, because even now there are some wounds in Casey’s life that are still a little raw, especially at the holidays.  “Shit, Case, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Miles.  Really.  Tell me . . . tell me something interesting about New York.”

Miles smiles to himself.  Sometimes it feels like they’re still kids, back before Miles broke his own rules and went and fucking fell in love.  _That_ part still sucks, but the best friends thing, that part is easy. 

Miles knows how to do this, so he leans against the balcony and begins.  “You’ll never guess who I ran into.  I mean, literally _ran_ into . . ..”

 

 


End file.
